Little Red Riding Hood
by NativeWolfy
Summary: Scott's older sister is Peter's mate. They don't quite live happily ever after, but they try, fail a bit, and ultimately he's now Peter Anderson, just so Michelle can say "Turn the other way Anderson, you're putting me off."


**Technically, this story is mine. Technically.**

**Jay actually wrote this, because I was complaining about being tired and having to go to work, so she wrote it after I told her the basic premise of the chapter. The most I did was edit-read: added a few lines and or sentences-and make sure everything was...sound? I guess the word would be. But she doesn't write fanfiction anymore, but she loves Peter, so I came up with this. Even if she wrote this chapter xD  
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**So, this is for her, and for whoever else out there who loves Peter.  
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**Disclaimer: Only this once. I don't own anything even related to Teen Wolf. Only Michelle, sadly.  
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**-0-  
**

Scott heard her before he smelled her, and when the lock clicked open and the door opened to a gust of wind bringing her scent into the house, his wolf reared and snarled. She smelled _wrong_, and he didn't even know how she smelled before she left, but it was _all wrong_ and made his wolf snarl in anger_._

He bounded down the stairs, and before his human side could protest, to think it through and think that she'd find it strange of him to show her the sudden affection shift-_change_, Scott found himself tackling his older sister after she closed the door, causing her to let out a pained whine from the impact of the door and floor. Vaguely, he thought that he hadn't tackled her in a welcome like this in a long time.

He rubbed his face against hers, repeatedly saying, "Hi, Miche," and, "I missed you," as a way to distract her from his scenting. He started rubbing her arms with his hands, and her shoulders, and messing with her hair.

A chuckle escaped her, a little strained from the fall but otherwise happy even if it was accompanied by the little slink of suspicion, she pushed him away with a bemused expression on her face, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Hi, Scott, I missed you too," she extracted herself from him with a fond look and stood, pulling him to his feet after she had righted herself.

He smiled awkwardly at her in response. "How were your college tours?" he asked, draping an arm around her shoulders and continuing his scenting. She smelled all wrong. _Completely wrong_. She didn't smell like him, or their mother, only faintly like herself. She smelled of strangers—strange men, and the like, and he had to hold his wolf at bay as best as he could from simply pouncing on her and removing the scents.

She made a face at the question, pushing his face away from nuzzling her cheek as an afterthought. "It was okay, I suppose. Boring, really," she made another annoyed face just thinking about it, "Most of them didn't really offer a great curriculum for me, the others didn't offer a flexible schedule," she shrugged. "I might just take another year off and work again, or take online courses until I absolutely _have_ to go to a university."

He nodded slightly, tripping over his own feet as she started ascending the stairs. "Mom's not home," he said.

She pursed her lips at that, nodded once, and then continued up the stairs. "Have someone over?" she asked, her tone light and teasing, hiding the underline of seriousness in the question.

He spluttered, a blush covering his face. "_No_."

"Right," she drawled, stopping mid-step and looked at him with a long, searching stare, the one she knew unnerved anyone she turned it on, that unnerved him. She suddenly shrugged, like it was not a big deal. "Fine, I'll just go home, then," she stepped down and gave him another calculating look from narrowed eyes. "You're hiding something," she stated, raising an eyebrow at him in question.

He scoffed at that, eyes flickering to the side before meeting hers. "No, I'm not," he licked his lips nervously, hoping she didn't call him on his bluff. But that was unlikely, considering who his sister is.

"Scott, I want to be a psychiatrist. I've read books, I've been analyzing you your entire life," she snorted at him, shaking her head lightly. "You have a ton of tells when you're doing things that you shouldn't," she stopped at the door, hand on the handle, and she had a sad expression on her face, even if it was faked for her own benefit, "I just wish I didn't have to resort to analyzing you, because you won't trust me," she opened the door, closed it behind her and smirked to herself. _Hook, line and sinker_. She wanted to cackle to herself, since she knew Scott had never been able to deny telling her anything if she really wanted it. Especially if she had to resort to different measures to get her information.

As she slowly made her way down the porch of the house and towards her 'mom car', as Stiles and Scott like to call it, he came out of the house with a resigned look on his features, pretty much sealing his fate with the next words he said. "Can we at least go inside?" he shifted. "I don't want to talk about it on the front lawn," he added quickly, seeing the look that crossed her face.

He didn't really want to explain anything to her, would rather he didn't have to. But that was the thing, he didn't want to her not know either, and he _knew_ her as much as she knew him; he knew she wouldn't give up on finding out the truth-or something close to it, which would mean she'd dig until she found something. And he'd rather she hear it from him, then anyone else-something else.

Plus there was the chance that she'd believe him if he told her himself. She didn't need to go out and find something, think something bad-_different_-had happened and go straight to Stiles dad, tell him her suspicions on what she thought and why she believes whatever theory she created.

He saw her brighten and nod to him, following him into the house. Scott brought her to the kitchen and gestured, very vaguely, that she sit down. Watching him pace thoughtfully, she allowed the silence as he seemed to be thinking of what he could say.

But even if he wanted to tell her, that didn't mean he was jumping for joy to do so. There was still the chance that she wouldn't believe him-or worse, she'd want to go after the…_thing_ that did this to him in some kind of act of sisterly revenge. And he really didn't want her to go after some crazy werewolf blind.

"I've...I don't know how to begin," he admitted.

She sucked in a breath at that, the sudden theories with that one uncertainty kind of scaring her and frowned at him in concern. "How about the beginning? Like...what first happened?" she offered, eyes roaming his tense, hesitant features searchingly to try find reason why he'd be so…scared.

He nodded, ran a hand through his hair and wiped at his face, kind of frustrated and wanting her to believe him. "Stiles and me," she ignored the impulse to correct him, "There was a search party for a body in the woods—we went to look for it." She groaned, giving him a disappointed look and he nodded slightly. "Uh...Stiles' dad caught Stiles but I hid and then Stiles was taken home and I was stuck there..." he trailed off, muttering to himself and then shaking his head.

He winced, pacing a little faster now. He wanted her to believe him so badly, that he was telling the truth to her rather than trying to pull some prank on her like they had the first time she left for college tours. Scott took in a sharp breath, realizing that he actually _did_ want her to believe him, that he was a werewolf, wanted her to _know_.

What worried him the most about that revelation was that he didn't think it was all him that wanted her to know, like someone was listening to this conversation through him, or was aware and shared in his need for her to believe.

"I...I was headed home, and then this thing-this wolf-attacked me."

"Wolves haven't been indigenous to California-."

"For the last 60 years, yeah, I know," he grimaced. "That's...that's the thing," he grunted and lifted his shirt, where the outline of fangs had bit him and left a scar, and Michelle shot up in her chair, mouth dropping open. "It wasn't _just_ a wolf," he said, giving her a long look.

She stared back at him in shock, her eyebrows pulling together as she frowned at the implication in his words, thinking on it over and trying to put reason into it.

"I lost my inhaler and we had to go back, but I...I didn't actually need it anymore?" he screwed his face up in concentration, and rubbed at his face again.

"How do you just stop needing an inhaler?" she asked incredulously.

He looked down, frowned and shrugged a shoulder. "I-well, that's the thing."

His words were stuttered so badly, that she looked confused, her voice a little blank. "What?"

He took a breath. "I'm a werewolf."

She stared, incredulity written clearly on her face. "I'm sorry what?" she shook her head, a chuckle escaping her lips. "I thought I heard you say _werewolf_," she said, looking at him, amusement in her eyes.

Her brown orbs searched his, examining him in a serious manner. His body language screamed openness, and that put a stopper to her questions on if he was doing drugs. "_Werewolf_," she repeated quietly.

He nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry if I don't believe you one hundred percent, but werewolves aren't supposed to be real..." she trailed off and he gave her a wounded, lost look. She cringed, scratched at her nose and then looked at him. "How do you _know_?" her eyes widened, "Do you turn into a furry monster-thing? Do you have like, dog teeth, and howl at the moon and stuff?" she leaned forwards, her arms open with a calculating look.

He sat beside her and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I...yes—I grow canines, and fur around my face and arms and stuff, and all my senses are heightened," he made a face. "Which is why I know that you were..._busy_ while on your tour," he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, the beginnings of a dopey grin on his face.

Her face took on a red hue and she looked resolutely away. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't sniff me, like a weirdo," she said with a huff, smile betraying her embarrassment.

He looked amused but then his face brightened, "You believe me?" he asked.

She nodded slightly, because how could she _not_? This was her little brother, after all. And God knew how he and Stiles attracted trouble. "Yeah, I do; though I'm a bit iffy on the details, and I expect them answered, but—werewolves like...get turned by a bite, right?" he nodded. "Who bit you?" she asked, eyes narrowed and lips thinned. Who the hell would do this to her baby brother? It wasn't _right_. She should have been here to protect him, stop it from happening.

She was going to freaking chew the bastard out for this; if not outright kill whoever did this.

Scott looked down, face pinched and taking on a constipated look. "I don't know," he said with a sigh. "We've been trying to figure that out," he added.

"We, as in...you and Stiles...?" she hazard a guess, though she already knew the answer would be _yes_.

He nodded. "And Derek."

"Derek...?" her eyebrow rose as she waited for him to finish, interested in who they managed to drag into their little detective twosome.

"Hale."

She sat back at the answer, her face pinching, much like Scott's had. Shock, amazement and worry crossed her features. _Hale fire_, crossing through her mind. Then another one, this one involving her volunteer work at the hospital before she shook it away.

"Oh," she scratched at her head and then nodded slowly. "Okay." She looked at him, gaze penetrating. "Does mom know?"

He shook his head quickly, eyes wide at her demanding question. "No, please don't—she'll think we're on drugs, or something," he pleaded with her, eyes widening even more and she sighed. How could she torture her brother when he looked like that?

"I wasn't going to tell her—do you honestly think she won't find the irony in a pre-psychiatrist going loony?" she smiled ruefully at him. "I _will_ meet this Derek, though, won't I?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side, her eyes telling him she would anyways.

He nodded slightly. "Yes, I mean—he'll need to know you know," he made a face, "Though just...don't...coddle him?" he shrugged at her confused look. "He's...broody, and always angry looking, and he's a werewolf, too...so...try not to make him mad?"

"Please, when have I ever made anyone mad?" she laughed sarcastically and he gave her a pained smile. "I'm kidding—I'll _try_ not to piss him off," she patted his shoulder in mock sympathy. "I've got to go, though, okay?" she stood, "Gotta go get my job at the bakery back, and then go clean my apartment and anything else that needs to be done," she pressed a kiss to his cheek and left the house, a weight lifted from her shoulders. Those few minutes of her knowing Scott was hiding something had weighed her down instantly, but now she was feeling peppier, and less likely to torture Scott and Stiles for information.

Getting into her blue Sedan happily, she drove to the bakery closest to her apartment. When she entered, she took in a deep breath and let out a moan of delight at being back to the bakery she fell in love with. "I'm back and gracing your shops inner workings with my presence!" she called, skipping ahead of the line and leaning against the counter.

Her boss walked out, gave her a smile and beckoned her to follow. "We're glad you're back, but you're on training duty, now," he abandoned her with the person who was supposed to replace her temporarily.

"Shit."

He gave her an awkward smile before promptly dropping the tray of bread, cursing as he complained of being burned. Her frown deepened at the wasted bread but dragged him away from the mess and made him stand still against a wall. "Stay."

She gave him one last disapproving look before going to clean up his mess, leaving him to wallow in his guilt and worry before starting his training.

**-0-**

Somewhere in the distance, the alpha stood on his hind legs and sniffed the air, once, twice and then let out a long, loud howl. It reverberated throughout the forest. It sounded happy, longing, like the alpha was glad someone was back. But most of all, the alpha sounded _frustrated_.

Derek looked up and out towards the forest from the clearing of his house, listening to the howl. His head upturned and he scented the air, his nose twitching with the familiar scent. It wasn't _too _familiar, however, and he couldn't place it, exactly, the scent eluding him. Growling, he took off towards the sound, and was brought to a bakery. He clenched his jaw and walked into the bakery shop, sniffing and walking to the counter.

Michelle walked out from the back and he pinned her with a stare. "Scott." He grunted.

She blinked at him, brow furrowing for a moment. "...Brother?" she tried, an amused smile playing on her lips. He nodded once and walked back out of the bakery.

She watched him, looking confused and amused-an odd mix, she knew-before pulling out her phone. Pulling up Scott's number, she sent a quick, _Is Derek a tall, dark and handsome fellow? Seems like he's emotionally and verbally repressed, and wears a leather jacket? _to her brother. She watched him watch her and nodded her head to him, feeling a little creeped out but still amused at his behaviour. He awkwardly walked away and her slight smile turned into a grin she tried to smother.

_Yes?_

She grinned, tapped at her phone. _Just met him then._

__**-0-**

**I honestly have no idea how to feel about this, truthfully.  
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**Review, and tell me what you think. Seriously, a jdbgvdKJGBoj would do just fine-at least it'd be something. xD  
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